


time watches from the shadow

by carolinecrane



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-29
Updated: 2010-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 07:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean can't think about Hogwarts without thinking of Seamus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	time watches from the shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Set just before fifth year.

Hottest summer in a decade: that's what they've been saying on the Muggle news, and it's not hard to believe. The grass crunches underfoot and the air weighs down oppressively and even the birds seem too tired to sing. As far as Dean can tell, the only life form with enough energy left to go about its business is a single bee, buzzing just outside the window as Dean lies on Seamus' bed and tries to catch the feeble breeze that stirs the curtains every so often.

Downstairs Seamus and his mother are still shouting, voices raised the same way they always are when one of them is laughing or telling a particularly colorful story. They're a loud family, the Finnegans, and that's part of what Dean likes about them. Different from his own – so much different – more exciting and Dean feels a little guilty every time he thinks it.

The house shakes a little and Dean can't tell if it's some weird magical charge from the row going on downstairs or if it's the force with which someone's slammed a door. From the way they've been yelling he wouldn't be surprised if the whole place blew up, though, so he just stays where he is and tries not to listen. The shouting dies down with the slam of a door, and a few seconds later Seamus wrenches open the door of his bedroom. He slams it behind him with a flourish and when the bed shakes a second time, Dean has his answer.

"For the love of Merlin," Seamus mutters under his breath, fists clenched and the back of his neck red as he turns to stare at the closed door.

"What's the matter?" Dean asks, though he's pretty sure he knows the answer. He was trying not to listen, but short of a silencing charm he's not sure how he could have blocked it out completely.

"She still doesn't want me to go back," Seamus answers, throwing himself down on the bed next to Dean and it's even hotter now, but Dean doesn't mind. He can feel the anger vibrating through Seamus, feels the heat radiating off his skin where it presses up against Dean's bare arm. "There's no reasoning with that woman."

It's been like this since Dean arrived, sweaty and desperate to get off the crowded train and into the Finnegans' loud, bewildering and _exciting_ house. That's the way it's been every summer since their first year, anyway, when everyone paired off into 'best mates' and Dean and Seamus chose each other. But it's different this summer, starting with the tension Dean could feel radiating off Seamus when he and his mum met Dean's train, and the daily shouting matches have made things even worse. They haven't talked about it much, but Dean's been here three days already and if he's going to stay an entire fortnight, they're going to have to talk about what's going on.

"She'll come round, mate," Dean says, tensing when Seamus glares at him, but the second their eyes meet the fight drains out of Seamus. And Dean hates himself a little for being grateful that Seamus isn't shouting at _him_ , because it means Seamus might actually back down from this fight eventually. Or maybe he just knows he can't win this one; he knows his mum a lot better than Dean, after all, and he probably knows when she's put her foot down.

So he doesn't try to reassure Seamus with words, doesn't say anything stupid like _you have to come back_ or _I can't imagine Hogwarts without you_ , even though he's been thinking it since he arrived. Instead he turns on his side, watching a bead of sweat roll down Seamus' forehead and along his temple. He reaches out to press too-warm fingers against Seamus' skin, wiping away the trickle of moisture and okay, it's just an excuse to touch. But Seamus doesn't mind, at least if the way he looks at Dean is anything to go by. In fact, he relaxes a little under Dean's touch and reaches up, catching Dean's fingers and squeezing for a second before he lets go again.

They're both thinking the same thing; Dean's pretty sure of it, because he can't think about Hogwarts without thinking _Seamus_ , and he knows it goes both ways. "Maybe if _The Prophet_ stops running stories..."

"Not bloody likely," Seamus mutters, and Dean knows he's right. "Wish Harry and Dumbledore would just lay off the You-Know-Who business."

"You reckon he's lying, then?" Dean asks, keeping his voice as neutral as possible because he doesn't want Seamus to start shouting at him now.

"Has to be, doesn't he?" Seamus says, as though it should be obvious. And maybe it should be; Dean hasn't been around all summer to hear the rumors and see what's been printed in _The Prophet_ , after all, so Seamus probably knows more about it than he does. But that doesn't change the fact that Dumbledore _told_ them You-Know-Who was back, and it doesn't change the fact that Harry's their friend.

"I don't know, mate. Never reckoned Harry for a liar."

Seamus shrugs against him, skin sliding together and reminding Dean of just how close they are. "Maybe he believes he really did see You-Know-Who. Wouldn't be that hard to believe Harry's finally gone round the bend, he's always been a bit off."

Off, maybe, but not mad, and Dean thinks about pointing it out. They don't know that much about Harry's life before Hogwarts, but they know it wasn't great. And there's the fact that his parents were murdered by You-Know-Who, that would be enough to send anyone a bit off. Granted, Dean's never met his real father and he turned out all right, but that's different than watching your parents be murdered, even if you were too little to remember.

But he doesn't point it out, because he doesn't want to argue. Seamus has done enough shouting for one day, and besides, Dean likes the feel of him pressed against his side, warm and heavy and if Dean finds himself alone at Hogwarts come September, he wants to make the most of the time they've got. So he doesn't say anything at all; instead he leans even closer, pressing against the furnace of Seamus' body and resting a hand on the center of his chest. He feels Seamus' heart beating through the thin fabric of his vest, hears the catch in his breath as Dean presses his lips to the corner of Seamus' mouth.

They've done this a few times before, but never in the middle of the day. The other times have always been in the dark, either in a forgotten cupboard somewhere in Hogwarts or in Seamus' room after they're sure his mum's long asleep. They've done it right here, but never when they could see each other properly, and Dean guesses that's why Seamus shakes a little as he turns into the kiss.

Dean's not planning to take it much further, because Seamus' mum is still downstairs and there's no telling when she'll turn up to chase them out into the afternoon heat. He never _plans_ these things, though, didn't plan it the first time and he's still not sure which of them had the idea first. And it doesn't mean anything; it's just mates, just something they do together because it feels better than doing it on their own. That's what he tells himself in the dark, but it's not dark now and when he opens his eyes Seamus is watching him. It takes him by surprise, because he always kisses with his eyes closed and he wonders how many times Seamus has watched him in the dark.

His heart does a funny little skip and he pulls back a little, panting and even more sweaty than he was a few moments ago. He thinks wildly that they should stop this, _knows_ they should stop and not just because it's the middle of the day and they might get caught. "What about...?"

"Me mam's gone to town," Seamus interrupts, hands on Dean to push his shirt up his stomach, and that's new too. They've never bothered getting undressed before, but what little breeze there is feels good against his skin, so Dean doesn't argue when Seamus pulls him forward and tugs his shirt off. "Be at least an hour before she's back."

He has a second to feel overexposed, absurdly shy about being shirtless in front of someone who's seen him starkers more times than either of them can count. But Seamus has never _looked_ before, and that's the difference, because he's definitely looking now. He's watching his hands as they slide down Dean's chest, sending a hot blush up Dean's neck to creep into his cheeks. His fingers splay across Dean's stomach, pale against his skin and resting there like he's not sure what to do next. And Dean's not sure either, because for all the times they've done this, this time feels completely different.

Then Seamus leans in, opening his mouth against Dean's neck and that's new. He's never kissed Dean like that before, but it's better than Seamus watching him like he's trying to memorize what he looks like. Like maybe he thinks there's never going to be another time, and if his mum doesn't let him come back to Hogwarts, there might not be.

Dean reaches up to run a hand through Seamus' hair, shivering a little when a warm tongue slides along his skin. "Mate…" he says, and his voice shakes a little because he's not sure how to ask if Seamus just _licked_ him. Before he finds the words Seamus murmurs something that sounds like 'shh', then he pulls his mouth away from Dean's neck to kiss him again. And that's better than talking, because when Seamus is kissing him he doesn't have to think about anything. He can forget about Seamus' mum and Hogwarts and You-Know-Who, he can forget about everything except Seamus' mouth and the body pressing him into the mattress.

His hands land on Seamus' waist, fingers gripping the hem of his vest and before he realizes what he's doing he's pushed the fabric halfway up Seamus' back. Seamus mumbles something against his mouth and presses a thigh between Dean's legs, and Dean can't help thrusting up into the sudden pressure. His hand finds the back of Seamus' neck, clamping down hard to hold him in place and then Seamus is laughing against his mouth and reaching between them.

When his fingers find Dean's stomach this time he doesn't hesitate, doesn't wait for permission before he pops open the button on Dean's trousers and slides the zipper down. And this is the part where he pushes his hand inside Dean's trousers, closes his fingers around Dean's cock and jerks him off in the dark where neither of them can see. Only it's not dark now, and Seamus isn't pushing his hand past fabric. Instead he's gripping the top of Dean's trousers and tugging them down, lifting up just enough to let Dean help a little.

He quits when Dean's trousers are around his thighs, but that's fine with Dean because Seamus is already leaning in to kiss him again. Then Seamus' hand does close around him, fingers just sweaty enough to let his hand slide easily up and down Dean's cock. And he knows he should feel kind of weird about the way Seamus is looking at him, alternating between feathering kisses along his jaw and pulling back to watch Dean thrusting up into his grip. He should feel weird about all of this, because he's nearly starkers and Seamus is still wearing all his clothes.

And it is a little weird, but it's amazing too, better even than those furtive, stolen moments in the darkest corners of Hogwarts. It's better than…everything, and Dean can't make himself care how he looks. All he can think about is the hand on his cock and the mouth moving along his skin, murmuring nonsense words in that voice Dean knows better than his own. He thinks maybe he should try to catch what Seamus is saying, but it's hard to hear anything but the blood pounding against his eardrums, so he gives up and focuses instead on the pressure building at the pit of his stomach.

He's vaguely aware of thrusting into Seamus' grip, hands clutching hard at Seamus' shoulders and he just manages a choked _can't_ before he comes. And even with his eyes closed he can feel Seamus' eyes on him, knows he's watching while Dean pants for breath and delays the inevitable moment when he has to open his eyes and look at his best mate. But that's the thing, because no matter what else they are, Seamus _is_ his best mate, and Dean knows he can always count on that.

His heart's still beating fast when he finally opens his eyes, and sure enough Seamus is watching, eyes wide and just a little scared and Dean doesn't hesitate before he wraps an arm around Seamus' neck and pulls him into a kiss. Seamus squirms against him and for a second Dean thinks he's trying to get away, then he realizes that Seamus is wriggling out of his own trousers. His stomach lurches at the thought of a mostly-starkers Seamus Finnegan stretched out on top of him, but there's a part of him that kind of likes the idea of being able to watch while he gets his best friend off.

Dean flattens his hand against Seamus' chest and pushes him backwards onto the mattress, stretching out next to him and pressing their mouths together as his hand closes around Seamus' cock. And he hasn't done this all that much, so it takes him a couple tries to get the rhythm right. Seamus doesn't seem to mind, though, at least not if the murmured encouragements and occasional exclamations are anything to go by. And he's not shy at all about thrusting up to meet Dean, rocking into his grip and moaning a little louder with each stroke.

Just when Dean's starting to worry that the neighbors will hear, Seamus shouts something he's pretty sure isn't English and thrusts up one last time, wet heat coating Dean's fingers and Seamus' vest. He sinks back against the pillows, eyes closed and face flushed a shade of red Dean's never seen on him before, but it makes his freckles stand out a little more and Dean decides he likes it.

He's so busy studying Seamus' freckles that he doesn't notice when the other boy finally opens his eyes, but when Seamus sits up and pulls his vest off Dean realizes he's been staring. He blushes and turns away, finally kicking his trousers off the rest of the way before he takes the offered vest and wipes his hands on the fabric. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Seamus answers, collapsing back onto the mattress and Dean has to stop himself from suggesting that they get dressed again before his mum comes home and finds them like this. He knows he should – it's his job to keep a level head, after all, but Seamus finally looks relaxed for the first time since Dean arrived, and he can't bring himself to do it. Instead he settles down on the bed again, shoulders pressed together and sweat pooling in the small of his back. And it's weird, just lying there with his best mate without even a pair of shorts between them, but it's kind of nice, too.

Then Seamus turns into him again, buries his face in Dean's neck and mumbles something Dean can't make out. "Sorry?"

Dean tries to pull back, to get a look at Seamus so he can catch whatever it was this time, but instead Seamus just burrows a little closer and presses another kiss to Dean's neck. A few moments later he's breathing a little more evenly, and Dean can tell he's meant to believe Seamus has gone to sleep. After four years of sleeping in the next bed Dean can tell when he's faking it, but he lets Seamus get away with it, just this once. He reaches up to rest his hand on the back of Seamus' neck, listening to the sound of Seamus' steady breathing and the buzz of the bee still stirring outside the window. And they should get up and tidy up before Seamus' mum gets back, but for right now, he doesn't mind staying just like this.


End file.
